Page 59 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin

Without missing a beat she says, ‘Did Donal get in touch?’ Then blows into her cup, sipping again.

‘No. And he won’t,’ I tell her, my voice perfectly resigned.

Mia pats my hand. ‘You don’t know that. Oh, tea’s heavenly, thank you.’ She swallows another mouthful with an audible gulp.

We sit in silence as Mia drinks her tea and nibbles at hertoast. When she’d arrived last night, I told her all about Donal and what happened at House with Logan. In a really short space of time, I told her how much I actually liked Donal, as she fell onto my couch, wide eyed and tipsy. And I finally got the answer I already knew to a question I asked her.

Logan had been home to Dublin three times since we broke up, she told me.

We’d gone through that half bottle of Baileys, deciding not to look at the best-before label, declaring what we didn’t know wouldn’t kill us. Mia kept telling me to call Donal and apologise, but there was no point. I had used him. As far as he was concerned, I had only agreed to go on that date with him because I desperately needed someone to face Logan with me, and I would never have gone otherwise. I looked like a phoney. Donal was anything but.

‘Is that your phone?’ Mia nudges me.

‘Huh?’ I prick my ear to the door, and hear my phone ringing in the kitchen.

I jog out to the kitchen, grab my phone from the counter, pull the charging cable out. I see six missed calls.

BRIDE BELINDA is flashing up.

Uh-oh.

Chapter Thirty

Quickly, I swipe my finger across the screen.

‘What’s wrong, Belinda? Happy wedding day!’ I hold my head with my other hand.

‘Fuck a duck, Grace, it’s a bleedin’ disaster!’ Belinda screeches. ‘It’sTitanicmeets Brad Pitt headin’ off to work with his packed lunch from Jen Aniston onto the set ofMr & Mrs Smith!’

‘Calm down. Sorry I missed your calls, I nipped out for bread but I’ll be over at twelve o’clock as planned?’ I sit on the chair, tuck my bare feet under me. Belinda’s wedding isn’t until two o’ clock.

‘I can’t calm down! The dress is too big! It won’t stay up! Me boobs are hangin’ out!’ Belinda hollers down the line. ‘I’d put Dolly Parton to shame!’

‘Stop movin’!’ I hear a muffled voice.

‘I’m not movin’, Amanda, you’re pullin’ me!’ A screech so piercing I have to hold the phone away from my ear.

‘Get out of the way, Amanda!’ Another voice.

‘Shut yer hole, Denise!’

‘Hello?’ I say into the speaker.

‘Grace Algar?’ A new voice.

‘Yes?’ I puff.

‘Hey. It’s me. Kathleen. Girl, you gotta come over right now? She’s spiralling, we can’t fix her. Say you’ll come?’

Another shout in the background. ‘Send Peter R. over forher!’

‘Send Da’s sister! She’s eatin’ all the good Kimberleys I left out. Horsin ’em into her. And her after applyin’ for the Ozempic for her diabetes!’

‘What diabetes?’ the same voice hollers.

‘If I can talk?’ I have to raise my voice and it hurts my head. ‘I don’t know what has happened, but I’ll be there in half an hour. Just stay calm.’ I hang up, locate the painkillers and re-book for an earlier taxi on the app.

‘I have to run,’ I tell Mia as she lounges in bed, the sunlight streaming through the window lighting up patches on the white linen sheet. Like glistening pools.